Broken Open
by AGray-ishHaze
Summary: As if things for Jesse haven't been confusing, heart-wrenching, and just plain insane enough as it is, a girl from out of town has to come in and make things even more complicated. JessexOC Please take notice of strong language, potential gore/violence, and occasional inappropriate content.
1. Chapter 1

The day Jesse met Elizabeth was a very strange one. He was still completely in the dark about what he and Mike were even doing driving around to and fro all day, let alone what hell they were doing driving into the desert at three-thirty in the morning.

Needless to say, when he found a slender, feminine frame wearing sturdy work boots next to a car, he was even more confused. The only woman that Mike even dealt with, Jesse was sure… actually he wasn't sure. He was clueless.

Mike turned off the ignition and motioned with a gruff movement of his fatty hand for Jesse to step outside. The sun was just barely coming up over the horizon.

"I told you not to transfer down here, Elizabeth," Mike warned. At first, Jesse assumed that maybe she was a threat to the business. However, as his oceanic orbs assessed her again, noting how thin her wrists were and how almost out of place her work boots seemed, he doubted that was the case.

"I can handle myself, Michael," she retorted. It was easily the first time Jesse had ever heard someone call Mike his full name. He could make out wisps of hair flowing in the desert breeze, free from the constraints of the braid the rest of her hair was in. But her back was to the sunrise. He couldn't make out much else other than her shape. "In either case, Fedex was the one who transferred me down here. I'll be managing their morning shift for package handling."

Mike grunted and the girl sent a vibe in return. It was clear that if he could see her face, Jesse would probably see a sassy expression painted on it. Then Mike spoke, interrupting his train of thought.

"Did you finish your chemistry degree?"

Jesse stared. A new cook? A rival cook? A lab assistant? What? How the fuck did Mike know her, anyway? Like fuck was some random bitch coming into his town and stealing his spot as cook with Walter or worse stealing Gail's spot and the whole thing would be fucked up even more than it was already and what the fuck was he even doing in the middle of this fucking desert at three thirty and who the fuck was she even?! What the shit was she even doing up this early? Like what in the fucking fuck-

"Two classes left. All my credits transferred," she hummed, pleased. "I just have my last round of advanced analytical. I'm signed up for classes come fall. I do have to thank you for the extra funding."

It was Mike's turn to hum, apparently somewhat pleased to hear her gratitude. For a moment, Jesse watched as the girl and Mike shared a somehow comfortable silence. Then Mike broke into the closest thing to a smile that Jesse imagined he could manage.

"Come here, kiddo. I'm so proud of you."

In a second, the two were hugging. Jesse stood their dumbfounded, hand woven into what little sandy blond hair that he had. This made absolutely not fucking sense. And then it just got even more confusing.

"I missed you, too, Dad."


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse paced back and forth in front of the car. Mike shoveled up dirt. Another pick up. Jesse had essentially plowed through his entire pack of Parliaments in less than four hours.

Who the _fuck _was that chick? How the _shit _did Mike even have a daughter? The man had never even talked about-

"Elizabeth was a surprise on a visit I made back to Phili," Mike suddenly announced, as if reading Jesse's thoughts. "I had an unexpected... encounter, so to speak, with my ex. Nine months later I got a letter, copy of the birth certificate, foot prints and hand prints and all, and of course a request for child support."

Jesse stood there and said nothing. His cigarette smoldered as he stared at Mike.

"As I'm sure you're aware," Mike huffed, hauling the bag of 200,000 dollars out of the ground, "Women don't like it when you have sex with other women, let alone if you have sex with another woman and get her pregnant. My other daughter and granddaughter have no idea about Elizabeth. Elizabeth knows about them only as means to avoid contact with them."

Again, Jesse blankly stared, waiting for some kind of explanation as to why some skinny white bitch showed up out of nowhere.

"Chemistry is her choice, not mine, not Gus's." Mike's tone was cautious, and his eyes watched Jesse's reaction. "She's not here to take your place, Jesse. She doesn't have an interest in the stuff that you and Walt do. Mostly. If she's involved, she's involved with me. She'll be kept far away from you and your asshole of a partner. Last thing I want in this world is that piece of fuckin' work around my daughter."

Mike began to shovel the dirt back into the ground.

"She's little," he said, "and she's tough." The shovel was stabbed into the ground, the job done, and Mike looked at Jesse plainly. "But she's my little girl. You fuck with her, and I can promise no one will find your body. Or what would be left of it when I was done with you. You will tell no one you've met her, or that you've seen her. I know you haven't seen her face, and if I can keep it that way, I will. You understand, kid?"

Jesse nodded. He had no interest in fucking his boss's _little princess _anyway. Not unless he really wanted Mike to kill him before Gus got a chance.


	3. Chapter 3

Home Depot was packed. Jesse internally groaned. He just wanted to fix his fucking sink.

As he walked towards the doors, down the enormous line of cars in the parking lot, he suddenly stopped. It was _her_ car. The princess. Of course, she had a black Civic. Bitch was fucking nuts to have a black car in the middle of the fucking desert. The inside had been redone, and not a scratch, ding, or scrape was to be seen on the entire vehicle. A FedEx employee badge, along with a college employee parking ass, swung from the rear-view mirror, and a light green pack of American Spirit cigarettes had been thrown half-hazardously on to the dashboard.

"_Fuck_," Jesse breathed. How the shit was he supposed to avoid her like Mike told him to if Mike had also managed to hide her face? It was pretty fucking difficult to avoid someone if you didn't know what the hell they looked like.

Going into the hardware store, Jesse steered clear of every skinny white girl he saw, which, much to his relief, wasn't many. One had had pixie cut hair. He knew that wasn't her. Another one had been too tan. A third had been too tall.

_Ka-thunk_.

The sound of work boots echoed in his ears the minute he stepped into the line for the cashier. His heart sank when he looked up the line to the girl running the register.

It was Elizabeth: work boots, rolled up skinny jeans, teeny black T-shirt, and all. Jesse really couldn't get over how little she was. She certainly wasn't much shorter than him; probably 5'6 without her work boots. But her wrists, ankles, legs, arms, neck... everything on her was just so _small_. Her hair, which he now saw was a light and multi-shade kind of auburn faded into blond the further down it got, was in some weird-looking braid that went from the nape of her neck all the way down past her chest, getting skinnier and skinnier until it got to the end, where it was secured with a tiny plastic band. The side view of her face showed the exaggerated length of her lashes. It looked like mascara (and a lot of it) might have been the only make up she wore. She was obviously pretty, but he'd also seen prettier girls walking around town.

The fact that he was trying to down-talk her as he blatantly stared made Jesse feel like a fucking idiot. The line shuffled forward and tried staring at something, anything else. He even tried reading the covers of the magazines. His eyes always ended up back on her in ten seconds. It was fucking useless. The line moved forward again, and he saw that she had tiny freckles going across the bridge of her nose and cheek bones, and littering the tops of her shoulders. She had to be the palest girl he'd ever seen. Even more so than Jane.

He paused at the thought as his diaphragm momentarily collapsed in pain at the thought of-

"Next," she waved her hand (Jesse noted it was shaped like a teardrop), and punched the last information of the last purchase into her register. Jesse cautiously put down his items on the counter, and avoided eye contact. Maybe if he pretended like he hadn't seen her-

"So what, you're going to gawk at me the whole time you're waiting in line but the minute you get face to face with me you're just going to stare at your shoes?" she laughed. Her voice was the same as it had been that morning in the desert. Low for a girl, sassy, intelligent.

"Uh," Jesse scratched his head, still keeping his eyes down as she scanned through his items like a champion. She'd obviously been a cashier a long time, even though he knew she couldn't have been working here for more than two weeks.

"I mean I know I don't know your name, but still dude," she prodded, placing his items in a bag. He dared not look up at her, mostly for the fact that he now felt like the most awkward human being on the face of planet earth. She tried again. "Well okay then, Mr. "The Floor Is Just So Interesting", your total is $56.73."

Jesse pulled out his wallet, not saying a word, and handed her three twenty dollar bills. She punched the amount into the register and started to make change. Feeling secure that she was busy, he looked up at her once more only to find her staring directly at him.

"There you go, champion," she smiled at him, even though the nickname for him was the most sarcastic thing he had ever heard in his life. "$3.27."

There was a strange silence as she held his eyes and handed him the change. Then she seemed to perk back up again, like she happily awoke from a mini-coma, and shut her drawer.

"You have awesome eyes," she commented, shoving her hands in her smock pockets and leaning back on her heels, bending over slightly to balance out. He blinked, kind of surprised, and kept staring. She quirked a brow.

"Well anyway, I have about fifteen other people in line, so whenever you want to come see me again we can continue the staring contest. But right now I'm kind of at work."

"Ah, sorry," was all he could manage. It felt like his throat was the size of the needle he was itching to shove into his skin at this moment. Something to escape this reality. Anything to escape the way her eyes held him in place like chains and padlocks.

"What's your name anyway? Next!" she asked as she waved smiled at the next person in line. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, Jesse. Jesse Pinkman." He was sweating like crazy, even in a T-shirt, even in blasting AC. She nodded, and started to scan the next customers items.

"Cool. Hopefully, I'll see you later, Jesse," she grinned at him shortly and then turned to the next customer. "You find everything okay?"

Jesse walked out of the store, still dumbfounded, still sweating, still craving anything and everything that would get his mind out of whatever the hell had just happened.

Her eyes were crazy. Like fucking what the fuck crazy. Like sea green with spikes of fucking sunset gold. Like he couldn't fucking get out.

He made a note never to make eye contact with her again.


End file.
